


Learning to Cope

by Wyrmiee



Category: Disney Duck Universe, Disney Ducks (Comics), DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: F/M, Family, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:41:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24441517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyrmiee/pseuds/Wyrmiee
Summary: Goldie O'Gilt never thought she'd be asking for help- but when Dickie decides that she needs some time away, the Ice Queen of Dawson ends up in the only place she's ever felt truly safe. (One-shot)
Relationships: Scrooge McDuck & "Glittering" Goldie O'Gilt, Scrooge McDuck/"Glittering" Goldie O'Gilt
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Learning to Cope

**Author's Note:**

> There aren't enough Goldie fics floating around, so I thought I'd write a little something. Please go easy on me, I've written a fanfic twice before and I'm still learning the ropes!

She sits alone, the windowsill solid against her lower back, and her head propped up precariously on the wall behind her. As she stares towards the duckburg horizon she dares to regret being in the misers office, something she finds she’s never done before. Each time she’s stood before him in this room she’s been so sure. Sure of her, sure of him. She knows he’ll never hurt her, and she knows that she can get away with murder if she’s on the McDuck estate, because he’s gone soft. She’s Goldie O’Gilt. Glittering Goldie O’Gilt. She’s got a heart of ice and she’s never, ever been vulnerable: especially not in front of Moneybags. And yet, in the few fleeting moments that she spends searching the skyline for her lost gusto, she realises that perhaps, just this once, she needs him to help her.

~~

Scrooge is aware of Goldie’s presence.

He knows she’s in his study, and he knows that she almost definitely means trouble. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as she scaled the wall of the mansion earlier, and Beakley had been ready to storm upstairs herself until he reminded her that he was, in fact, still her boss, and she wasn’t allowed to harm his ex-everything as long as she and her granddaughter slept under his roof.

In actuality, the whole family had been absorbed in Goldie’s struggle to climb into the room- halting their dinner to stare incredulously out of the dining room window as the lady in question not-so-daintily hauled herself onto one of the balconies. The triplets cooed and Della made sure to point out that the ice queen of Dawson was losing her touch, poking Scrooge square in the ribs as Donald remarked that, perhaps, Scrooge had lowered his standards. It was at that point that Scrooge had not-so-subtly excused himself and left the table, making sure to kick Donald’s leg as he made his way into the hallway.

~~

He stands facing the door to his office now, one hand pressed against the wood-grain, the other resting lightly on the handle. He mulls things over in his head, debating what exactly it is that she wants from him at 10:43 on a Sunday evening, letting himself dwell on a much sweeter, more domestic idea than he’d usually care for, despite knowing that Goldie would never dare to settle down. He hopes that one day she might, hopes that the silly little happily-ever-after he’s built in his head could actually come true. He hopes that maybe, just maybe, this conversation will be different than the last umpteen times he’s been in this exact position. Yet deep within his yearning heart he knows that she’s only ever truly after the one thing she loves more than him: gold.

It stings beyond belief.

Only when he hears a muffled groan from inside the room does he break out of his trance and swing the heavy barrier between them open, preparing to shoot her a look of mock disbelief before delivering a snarky comeback to her welcoming words. Instead, as the door slams mercilessly against the wall, he finds that the sight before him is one he’s never in his life witnessed.

She’s curled against the window, perched on the sill so haphazardly that he thinks that she might fall down. When he enters, she folds in on herself, her demeanour shifting from simply shaky to completely and utterly unsure. She looks lost- buried amongst the various treasures and baubles he keeps stacked on the floors and hung up on the walls around his desk, like some sort of forgotten heirloom. For once, her presence isn’t the only thing he can focus on, and it’s jarring.

Scrooge chooses not to break the silence, walking instead towards a photo frame hung up on the far wall- pretending to straighten it half-heartedly. She laughs at him, a soft laugh, and a subtle smile graces her face. Scrooge simply waits for her to speak.

“So,” she begins, after a long while- a mocking undertone present in her voice. “How are the kids?”

Snorting in response, Scrooge rolls his eyes at her, moving towards the desk and placing his cane and top-hat on its weathered surface. “Oh, they’re fine.” He replies, playing along with her game as he sits down on the windowsill next to her. “They’ve been asking about ye, actually. Della thought ye’d died o’ old age.” For his remark, Scrooge receives a swift punch to the arm. “Ye know, we were all surprised when we saw ye alive an’ kicking, climbing up th’ wall.” Pausing to rub at his arm, Scrooge quirks an eyebrow at Goldie, watching as she not-so subtly raises her middle finger at him. “Ever so daintily, might I add. Very ladylike.” He quips, amused by her lack of grace.

She doesn’t respond right away, choosing instead to open herself up a little, her legs dropping off of the ledge and her shoulders sinking back into their natural position at her sides. After another long bout of silence, she raises her eyes to his. “Go and finish your dinner.” She states, challenging him with a stubborn glare. “I’ll be out of your hair the second I work out what I’m planning on stealing this time. It shouldn’t take long, you’ve got some lovely jewels laying around here.”

“Ye didnae come fer my advice, then?” he shoots back, matching her stare with his own incredulous gaze.

“Of course not! What do you take me for, one of your nephews?” Goldie waves him off, tilting her head and looking around the room. “I’m trying to work out how much of this loot I can get out of your window in one trip. Though you don’t make it easy, moneybags- you just _had_ to buy the biggest chandeliers you could find.”

“Aye, ye’re here t’ steal. O’ course, how could I have known?” In one swift movement, Scrooge plucks a trinket from Goldie’s pocket, holding it up to the light and grinning arrogantly. “Twenty-four carat-“ he muses, turning the paperweight over in his hand. “Nice eye.”

“I only have eyes for the best.” She retorts, looking him up and down before snatching the paperweight back and dropping it back into her pocket with a _thunk._ “Though I’m starting to think that you don’t appreciate my talents.”

“Dinner it is, then.” Scrooge sighs, standing slowly and making his way towards the door. Turning back to look at Goldie, he pauses. She’s silhouetted by the light from the window, and while she’s moved slightly, she still looks small and frail. He wonders what’s changed to make her shrink in on herself, and why she’s seeking solace at his house, of all places. He would have assumed that she’d never let him see her like this, but he supposes she doesn’t have many other places to go. Defeated, he opens the door to leave.

~~

“Wait.”

“Goldie-“

“How did you do it?”

Scrooge shuts the door.

Goldie watches as he shifts uncomfortably, his hesitance reminding her of the rather personal question she’d just asked him.

“What d’ ye mean?” he asks, stepping backwards and turning to face her again.

“When you lost Della.” She replies, without missing a beat, her confidence quickly waning. “How did you…” she stops again, drawing in a shaky breath. “How did you make things start to make sense again?”

The world seems to stand still for a second, as Goldie stands and begins to walk towards Scrooge. She stills when she’s close enough, thinking through her options. She’s terrified- she’s never had a problem trusting him before, but for once, she needs him to trust her- and that’s something she’s not sure she’ll ever earn. She opens her beak to speak again, falters, and thrusts a tattered slip of paper into his hands instead.

The confusion plastered on his face as he reads the worn note slowly begins to fade away, replaced with something more solemn as he folds the paper back up.

“I didnae.” He replies, simply. “But ye havenae lost her, she’s simply travelling fer a while.” Breaking his grave façade, Scrooge lets out a hearty laugh, holding out the paper for Goldie to take back.

She punches him again, harder this time. “You old fool! I’m asking for help!”

“Aye, but did ye have t’ be so dramatic about it?” he chuckles, grabbing her fist as she throws another half-hearted punch, and using it to spin her around. He leads her back over to the window and gestures for her to sit down. “Talk t’ me about her.” He says, a genuine kindness behind his words. “She’ll come back when she’s ready.”

And so, they spend the next few hours discussing Dickie. Goldie tells Scrooge just how hard it was, at first- how she struggled desperately to cobble together enough of a home. How her adventuring lifestyle had gotten in the way, and how everything she did, she seemed to do wrong. She explains that she’d just gotten the hang of it, managed to weave together some sort of stable base- and Dickie had announced that she needed some time away.

Scrooge listens, and when the time comes, he talks about his own fears. How he felt when he took on Della and Donald, how he felt when they began to spread their wings, and most importantly, how he felt when Della took the Spear of Selene. He explains just how devastated he was, how nothing made sense and how he shut the people closest to him out. He tells Goldie that no matter how bleak things get, she’ll always have him to come back to.

-And then he stops.

He hadn’t meant to say that. He hadn’t meant to overstep any of their unspoken boundaries, he hadn’t meant to put more pressure on her- he’d just gotten carried away.

“I’m sorry-“ he starts, shifting away from Goldie hurriedly.

She grabs his wrists and looks him in the eyes. “Don’t be. For once, I think…” she pauses. “I think I needed to hear it.” Letting herself smile, she pushes his hands away and crosses her arms. “But don’t think it’ll be a reoccurring thing. You don’t get to talk to me like I’m an old fool. I’m not, and you are.”

Scrooge blinks at her, confused by her words. Goldie O’Gilt- _the_ Goldie O’Gilt- was telling him that he mattered. That _they_ mattered. A triumphant smile spreads across his beak.

“Oh, I am _never_ letting this go.”

She narrows her eyes at him, biting back a threatening response. “Shut up and go and get that champagne you keep for special occasions.” She says, instead. “And don’t let Beakley know I’m still here, she’ll lose her marbles.”

~~

She’s Goldie O’Gilt. Glittering Goldie O’Gilt. She’s got a heart of ice that is slowly melting, and she’s been vulnerable: but only in front of Moneybags.

**Author's Note:**

> I narrowed this fic down from 8 pages of writing to 4, so if you're interested in seeing some longer stuff from me in the future, please let me know! Any criticism helps, and I'm working on bettering my writing every day!


End file.
